Episode 01
01: I Was Reincarnated Inside a Novel Destined for Destruction
If I had to explain my situation, it would go something like this.
I died after getting hit by a car—and woke up reincarnated inside a novel.
Usually, when people talk about reincarnation or possession in novels, they imagine a noble young lady living a luxurious life: dressed in gorgeous gowns, surrounded by handsome men, enjoying endless wealth.
Up until recently, my life wasn’t all that different.
Up until recently, that is.
This world resembled a highly industrialized nineteenth-century Europe—complete with rigid class divisions, aristocratic society, and glittering parties.
But it was doomed to be destroyed.
By a virus.
I had reincarnated into a B-grade, apocalypse survival romance novel titled Love in a Ruined World.
And not even as an important character—but as Cherry Sinclair, a nuisance side character who endangered the sub–male lead’s life before dying a pointless death.
I realized all of this in the early spring of my nineteenth year.
Three years ago, my parents had died in an accident, leaving me completely alone in the world.
I wasn’t lonely, though.
The enormous inheritance they left behind made sure of that.
Money really is the best, I thought.
Though I wasn’t nobility, I was born into the bourgeois class—wealthier than most aristocrats. I lived happily, throwing money around without a care in the world. Why not? I could live like an idle rich brat forever.
“I’ll take this one too—and wrap that one up as well.”
That day, I went on yet another shopping spree at a shoe boutique. Afterward, I strolled through the busy streets, humming proudly to myself. My maid, Susanna, followed behind me, struggling under the weight of countless shopping bags.
The spectacle was impossible to miss.
I could hear noble ladies whispering as they recognized me.
“Isn’t that Lady Sinclair?”
“Who designed the dress she’s wearing today?”
“That hat is lovely.”
Heh.
I brushed my hair back and smiled in satisfaction.
I wasn’t a noble—but nobles admired me all the same. It was intoxicating. Newspapers frequently criticized me as a frivolous heiress, splashing my name across their pages day after day.
I didn’t mind.
Attention was still attention.
Back then, I lived without a single worry, unaware of the dark clouds gathering over my future.
“Miss, please wait just a moment.”
After finishing our shopping, Susanna began loading the bags into a four-wheeled carriage. There wasn’t enough space in the steam-powered automobile I rode in.
I watched quietly from the side as she struggled with the heavy boxes full of shoes.
She looks exhausted.
After checking that no one was nearby, I casually lifted the boxes with one hand and placed them into the carriage.
“Wow… Miss, you’re incredibly strong.”
Susanna clapped her hands in amazement. I shrugged it off.
She wasn’t wrong. I was stronger than most people.
I hadn’t been born that way. As a child, I’d been frail. But after taking some medicine my parents had acquired, a few years passed—and this strength appeared.
Still, monstrous strength wasn’t considered a virtue for upper-class women. Since I wanted to be accepted among the aristocracy, I’d done everything I could to hide it.
“Hmm?”
Just as I was about to board the steam car, a sudden chill ran down my spine. Susanna looked at me curiously as I paused with one foot inside.
“Is something wrong, miss?”
“No, it’s just…”
What is this ominous feeling?
An eerie sensation wrapped around me. Thinking it was just my imagination, I tried to step forward again—
And lost my balance.
Crash!
My head slammed against the ground.
I couldn’t even scream. Susanna hurriedly helped me up, her face pale with shock.
The pain exploding through the back of my head was indescribable—like someone had split my skull open with an axe.
And through that crack, memories came flooding in.
Not quite mine—yet unmistakably real.
They surged through me like a tidal wave, vivid as if they’d happened yesterday.
What… what is this?
That was when it hit me.
Unbelievable as it was—I had a past life.
And this world I’d been reborn into?
It was the very novel I’d read in that past life.
Love in a Ruined World.
What kind of sick joke was this?
Life always had the worst timing. I remembered a heroine in some survival novel once saying something like that.
“Miss, are you really all right?”
“I’m fine.”
I absolutely wasn’t—but I let Susanna support me as I climbed into the car.
My head throbbed as I leaned back against the seat and thought.
The memories that had resurfaced belonged to Love in a Ruined World, an apocalypse survival romance novel.
Often shortened to Ruined Love, it followed the protagonist, Aurora, as she gathered male leads and formed a “survival team” to search for a cure after the world’s collapse.
The novel featured various survivor camps, each one representing power. Aurora conquered them one by one, amassing influence.
But the problem was—
The novel was never finished.
The cause of the virus was never fully revealed.
The only solid information given was that the heroine’s group would meet a scientist male lead capable of developing a cure two years later. Around that time, they’d also discover that Aurora’s brother—Ethan—was a carrier of the virus antibodies.
Damn it.
And Cherry Sinclair’s role in the original story?
She did nothing but whine about being neglected by Aurora’s group.
Her ending?
She caused a scene and got bitten to death by a virus monster. XX.
“Miss… are you crying?”
Susanna, sitting beside me, offered a handkerchief with a startled expression. I’d been lying back, tears quietly streaming down my face.
“No. It’s just sweat.”
“…Pardon?”
She looked utterly confused as I accepted the handkerchief and wiped away the tears.
That’s right.
I wasn’t sad.
These weren’t tears.
Why, of all novels, did I have to reincarnate into Love in a Ruined World?
Why an apocalypse?!
XX.
Why are you doing this to me?
* * *
The capital of the Graydon Kingdom—Benton.
In the heart of the city stood the Sinclair family’s townhouse, dazzling in appearance.
White stone walls adorned with gilded statues proclaimed the family’s wealth, while lavender blanketed the roof. It was clear the owner valued extravagance over harmony.
On the third floor was the largest bedroom, complete with a walk-in closet. A three-tier dessert tray always sat on the table, scented candles filling the air with a gentle floral fragrance.
Beside it stood an entirely gold-trimmed bed.
I was sprawled across it, having returned home and collapsed without even touching my dinner.
Because I wanted to deny this ridiculous reality.
I’d lived through a world ravaged by COVID without ever taking a PCR test—a rare unicorn, blessed by luck.
And then I died in a traffic accident.
Only to be reborn into a novel—and a world destined to fall to a virus?
The difficulty level had skyrocketed.
So that’s why you let me live so safely before—just to screw me over even harder.
“If the world were to end tomorrow, I would still plant an apple tree today.”
Sure, people said things like that.
But Cherry Sinclair had lost her family not long ago and had no one she loved. She didn’t care about apple trees, either.
Because of her parents’ business, she’d traveled constantly—she had no friends. No cousins. No family left.
Well… there’s Harrison, I guess.
Harrison Howard, the Sinclair family’s legal advisor. Not blood-related, but close enough to feel like an older brother.
As for the household staff, I hadn’t lived with them long. The only one I felt even slightly attached to was Susanna.
As I lay there crying, Susanna came into the room.
“Miss Cherry. The newspapers you asked for.”
She held several issues from different dates. I rubbed my eyes and sat up to take them.
“Thank you.”
I skimmed through them one by one.
Finally, I found the article I’d been looking for.
[An In-Depth Analysis of Cherry Sinclair’s Spending Habits!
Just How Far Does This Frivolous Heiress’s Extravagance Go…?!]
No. Not this one.
The article detailed my spending habits and showcased the dresses I’d worn. Whenever my clothes or jewelry appeared in print, the designs sold out almost instantly.
They criticize me, but they sure are obsessed.
I shook my head and read the article below it.
[A Grand Funeral Held by the Marquis of Casey’s Family!
A spokesperson claims the deceased were household staff suffering from a contagious illness…!]
This was it.
Just like in my past-life memories, something was happening in the Casey Marquisate.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Does that mean those memories were real?
The tragedy of this novel began with the Marquis of Casey’s suspicious experiments. Alchemists funded by the marquis conducted unethical research, unleashing a catastrophic virus. The family then concealed the truth to evade responsibility.
In the novel, the world ended exactly three months after this article was published…
I quickly checked the date.
Two months had already passed.
“No—what the hell is this?!”
That meant—
Only 21 days remained until the world’s destruction.
Less than a month.
“This is insane. Twenty-one days is way too short!”
I grabbed at my hair in despair.
